Run For Your Life
by DrWorm
Summary: Catch you with another man, that's the end.


Notes: Um… I don't know. "Run For Your Life" is a weird, sick little song by the Beatles that I like very much. This was originally going to be an all out lemon, but I chickened out. Sorry…  ;____;

Run For Your Life 

_Well I'd rather see you dead, little girl  
than to be with another man  
You better keep your head, little girl  
or I won't know where I am_

"The woods seem so much more treacherous after the sun has gone down." A swift breeze twisted and turned its way through the tangles of eldritch trees to alight on the upturned faces of the two men. 

"Are you frightened?" The fairer haired man- no, elf- shrank back at the almost predatory words coming from his companion. He turned to look upon the grizzled and tired apparition beside him with a silly smirk gracing his features. 

"Perhaps… would you hold me if I am?" He nudged a shoulder playfully into the hollow between the man's shoulder blades, not hard, but enough to throw a person off balance. The elf snickered to himself, pleased with his actions, until he felt the heel of a boot make contact with his lower back and sent him flying forward from the rock he'd been perching on. He blushed, feeling very foolish indeed when that same boot came down lightly atop his splayed fingers. 

"I would not," a memorable voice growled from above, "Because I think you are big enough to take care of yourself, Legolas." The elf pouted and stared up sullenly at the standing man. "And I do not think you are at all frightened. I think you are trying to… philosophize."

At this, Legolas scowled. "You have no head for romanticism." The boot was lifted and retreating footsteps were heard along with a snort of acquiescence. 

"You are right." A pause. "What was it you wanted, then?"

"How are you so sure that I wanted something from you?"

The man sighed. "We've played this game for far too long."

"Long enough, then, that you can guess what I want?" The elf had drawn upon his graces to stand and walk to where the man was waiting, rocking back and forth on his heels in the darkness, without a sound. He stood before him a moment, head cocked to one side, before placing his arms around the man's neck and letting his head fall in the warm, familiar crook of the man's neck. After a moment, he felt arms engulf him from behind into a fierce hug. "Aragorn?"

"Yes?"

"I am frightened."

The silence hung between them, heavy and uncomfortable. "Why?" Aragorn answered finally, running his hands absently through Legolas's fine, blonde hair. The elf laughed bitterly.

"Do we need to ask 'why?' anymore?" Legolas paused, his eyes wide and his body warm. "Are you frightened?"

"No."

"It's ok to say if you are, you know."

"I'm not."

"I wouldn't think any less of you."

"I think you want someone to share in your misery." Legolas blinked. 

"Perhaps." He sighed and pushed his nose against the smooth leather of Aragorn's cloak, breathing the heady scent of musk and of time. "Are you sure you're not frightened?"

"Very sure. Why are you suddenly so afraid?"

Legolas shifted again, moving closer to Aragorn and tightening his grip on the man. "I'm not afraid."

"Uh-huh…"

"Not shaking, trembling afraid. I'm not going to up and run away like a scared, little bunny." He grinned and shivered. "It's just a nagging, a buzzing in the back of my mind. _I am frightened._"

"I see."

"No, I don't think you do."

"What are you afraid of then? The Ring?"

"…I don't know."

Aragorn's head moved softly and slowly so that his mouth was level with Legolas's ear. When he spoke, his voice was thick and rusty in the cool night air. "You cannot be afraid of nothing. And you should not be afraid of the obtuse."

"I don't understand."

"Observe…"

_You better run for your life if you can, little girl  
Hide your head in the sand little girl  
Catch you with another man  
That's the end'a little girl_

In one sharp movement, Aragorn pushed Legolas backward and drew his sword. The elf stumbled, but did not fall, and as soon as he raised his head to have an angry word with his friend the blade caught him across the neck, not cutting but simply holding him there. 

Aragorn gave a half-smile in the darkness. "Do you fear me?" He asked, voice dangerously quiet.

"No," Legolas replied, standing as still and straight as he could manage. 

"Why not?"

"Because I know you will not hurt me."

And as he stood, still, straight, and silent, he felt slight pressure below his chin, a prick on the skin of his neck, and the trickle of warm blood down his collar.

"Do you fear me now?" Legolas swallowed heavily as Aragorn withdrew his weapon with a smirk. His hand went instantly to the shallow wound, and returned wet and sticky. In the dim light of the moon he stared at it, eyes wide with disbelief. "One lesson you should learn: do not always trust that which is familiar."

Expression still fixed at that of astonishment, Legolas shifted his gaze to Aragorn. "You cut me." He whispered, incredulous. "You really cut me." Aragorn sheathed his sword and reached out a hand to the startled elf, who backed away in bewilderment.

"Why do you shy away from me now?" Aragorn asked. "I hold no weapon; I cannot hurt you further."

"I'm not so sure of that." Legolas drew his cloak around himself and withdrew further away. As he backed up, his nimble feet encountered a prominent tree root and he found himself falling onto his bottom while Aragorn still towered over him. 

"Lesson number two," he whispered, kneeling and reaching a gentle hand to stroke the elf's cheek. "Even without weapons, things you trust can bring you harm." Firmly, he grasped Legolas's hand and stood, pulling the other up with him. Legolas stood beside him, very close, and shuffled his feet. "Follow me now."

With that, Aragorn began to run in the direction of the camp and the fire, still firmly grasping Legolas's hand within his own, thus forcing the confused elf to follow him. They ran together through the tangles of the underbrush, thorns catching on their cloaks and trousers. As the circle of the sleeping Fellowship drew ever closer, Legolas felt a particular catch in his throat. He tried to slow Aragorn. 

"Don't go crashing in like some great goblin!" He hissed, dragging his feet. "They're all sleeping! Show some respect!" But Aragorn kept running, his grip on Legolas tightening all the more with the warning. He leapt a low bush and-

Stopped dead. Behind him, the elf came tumbling over the bush and into the back of the man; Aragorn barely felt the impact. He stared in rapt fascination at what lay before him. "Do you see?" He whispered serenely. "Do you see?" Legolas peered curiously over Aragorn's shoulder, still slightly red in the face from his near fall. 

"It's Frodo," Legolas gave Aragorn a sideways glance. 

"Indeed it is." Aragorn raised one finger to his lips where the ghost of a smile was traced. "See at how peaceful he looks in sleep?"

Legolas looked again. Certainly, Frodo had lost that vaguely hunted look he always wore when he was awake and traveling with the Fellowship. His lips were slightly parted, his hair tousled; he was buried against the cold in a number of small, hobbit blankets. Beside him, as always, was Samwise. And in his hand was…

"The ring…" Legolas breathed, steam rising in trails from his nose and mouth into the cold air above. Aragorn nodded.

"Yes. Look at how he clutches it so fiercely in those little hands…" he trailed off a moment, lost in thought, before turning his head to get a look at Legolas. "Does it upset you?"

"Upset me?" Legolas blinked. "I'm not sure…"

_Well I know that I'm a wicked guy  
And I was born with a jealous mind  
And I can't spend my whole life  
trying just to make you toe the line_  
  


"The power of The Ring," Aragorn explained, letting one hand slide back to Legolas's; the two laced fingers. "The power it holds over all of us."

"Yes… maybe it does."

"It is a powerful little thing."

"Yes."

"Just a gold band really."

"Yes."

"Almost indestructible."

"You really aren't helping much."

"Still…" Aragorn's eyes gleamed in the darkness, "Still, for all that power, it _can_ be destroyed… can't it?"

"Well, yes. Otherwise, I don't think we'd be here."

"Yes… even it has to succumb to the great fires of Mordor and Mount Doom…" They stood a moment in silence, watching the sleeping figures and the gentle beauty of life that contrasted so sharply with the gloom of the forest. "Lesson number three: know thine enemy's weaknesses, for it makes for a less intimidating opponent."

"I'll remember." Legolas had made himself comfortable by resting his head on Aragorn's shoulder and letting his eyes slide half-closed. He found himself quite content, until a sharp tug knocked his head off of its comfy perch and a second tug on his hand forced him to start walking. "What? What now?" 

"We're going into the forest." Aragorn was leading them away from the camp again.

"Wait, wait!" Legolas protested. "I'm supposed to be on watch!"

"You'll be able to see and hear them fine," Aragorn said smoothly as he ducked a tree branch and motioned for the elf to do the same. "Not that you were paying much attention before, anyway." Legolas scowled and followed. He didn't have too much choice; Aragorn still had hold of his hand.   
  
_You better run for your life if you can, little girl  
Hide your head in the sand little girl  
Catch you with another man  
That's the end'a little girl_  
  


They walked a good ways away from the campsite and from the fire that lit it. The dark was so thick that you could barely see your own hand in front of your face; Legolas could just make out Aragorn's outline in front of him. He looked back. The campfire was a spark to interrupt the bleak nothingness. It was all very disturbing.

Aragorn made another sudden stop; this time Legolas was able to anticipate it and stop as well. "Are you afraid now?"

"I'm a little confused…"

"No, afraid. Are you afraid because you can't see me in the darkness? Or because you can't see your surroundings?"

"… I just may be if you keep talking like that." Abruptly Aragorn let go of Legolas's hand. Immediately, the elf missed the connection. 

"We are going to play a little game…" Legolas said nothing in reply, instead following Aragorn's movement by that of his voice. "I will count to ten." Legolas heard a sword being unsheathed. "And you will hide. Once I finish I will try to find you." There was a foreboding pause. "The object of this game, for you, is not to be found."

"Aragorn…"

"One…" He was counting in Elvish. 

"I don't think I like this game much."

"Two…"

"In fact, I _know_ I don't like it…"

"Three…"

"Aragorn…"

"Four…"

"I'm afraid... that's what you wanted me to say, isn't it?"

"Five… I would hide if I was you… six…" Legolas moved silently over the dry leaves of autumn and tried to keep himself behind where he though Aragorn was, secure in knowing that the man couldn't see either. "Seven…" He was sure that hiding in this game was the best way to get caught; once found, there was no way you could escape. By keeping upright and moving, he reasoned, you could be doing that for quite awhile. 

"Eight…" Now the sword cut through the air, quick and hard. Legolas backed away a bit further from where those sounds were coming from.

"Nine… Find a nice hiding spot?…"

"Ten!" Aragorn spun around (Legolas heard it in the leaves) and made a great leap for the approximate place the elf was standing. Legolas gave a cry of indignation and began to run blindly, feeling his way among the trees and forever tripping over roots and rocks and other unfortunate things. He was heading for the campsite, back to that nice round circle of near normalcy, but he wasn't sure he was going the right way. Was the light getting bigger? It almost looked to be getting… smaller…

He was actually beginning to panic. And it was only supposed to be a game. Aragorn was crashing through the woods in that way that men do, loud and harsh. And, even though Legolas knew that he was making no sound on the forest floor, Aragorn was still tracking him perfectly in the darkness. 

He began to run faster and to zig-zag between the trees. It was like throwing off a predator or a highly trained assassin. It was, above all, frustrating. But he kept running because, that night, he wasn't particularly keen to find out what would happen if he didn't. 

_Let this be a sermon  
I mean everything I've said  
Baby, I'm determined  
And I'd rather see you dead_  
  


Leaves, trees, brush, thorns, he barely felt any of it. He just ran. The forest felt like it was closing in on him, swallowing him. The trees were coming in closer; branches were whipping his face more and more frequently as the pursuit continued. Once or twice, Legolas felt the peculiar "swish!" of a blade as it went by his ear, missing him by a hair or less. Again, and again, and again he reached out to the trees to give him direction, to help him find a path that his eyes could not see.

Until, suddenly, there were no more trees. He stopped, hands outstretched like a blind man, completely lost. The footsteps behind him ceased as well, giving him no more audio clues as to Aragorn's whereabouts. 

"A clearing," Legolas thought to himself, pulling his arms in, "Many curses upon your household for getting me into this, Aragorn." He began to trace his steps and go back the way he'd come before thinking better of it. "No, no. He could still be standing there. I haven't heard him move. So I shouldn't go that way unless I want to be caught." He gave a sigh of annoyance and kicked absently at the ground. "Oh, why do I care anymore? It's a silly children's game we're playing!" He gave this last statement a quick moment's thought. "A silly children's game we're playing with swords… I don't like it." Suddenly, Legolas found himself feeling rather angry.

"Run, run, run…" he muttered aloud to himself in Elvish, leaning heavily against one of the trees he'd used previously as a map. 

"As fast as you can…" This said a little louder.

"Well, you can't catch me!" He finally shouted to the forest in general. "In fact, I think _you're_ the one who got scared _this _time, Range- ow!" Something heavy had barreled into him from behind, causing Legolas to fall forward into the forest-wide bed of dead leaves. 

"Lesson number four…" The something heavy intoned after spitting out a generous mouthful of foliage. "Shouting 'you can't catch me!' will almost certainly result in your immediate capture."

Legolas smiled in spite of himself. "Good evening to you too," he replied. "You're the one who wanted to play." 

"Indeed I was," Aragorn replied after a pause."

"_Forced_ me to play, actually."

"The lesson it was meant to teach was-" Legolas did a quick calculation in his head.

"Number five?"

"Yes, number five." A pair of strong arms engulfed the elf from behind; he felt warm breath on his neck. "Demons in the dark are tangible…"

"Oh yes?" Legolas was beginning to feel giddy and silly after the long, adrenaline-filled run through the forest. He leaned into Aragorn's embrace with a happy giggle. "And what does that mean?"

"Means they're out there. You can reach out and touch them."

"Oh," he reached one hand back and tangled his fingers in Aragorn's hair. "So they are!"

"So they are," Aragorn echoed with a smile as he planted a whispering kiss on the nape of Legolas's neck. "They are tangible, they are real. Just because they are covered by shadows doesn't mean they are not real."

"And just because they are covered in shadows doesn't mean that they should be any more frightening," Legolas nodded. 

"Exactly."

"You could have just _told _me this. Preferably back closer to the campsite." With a sigh of satisfaction that seemed more or less incongruent with his words, Legolas leaned into the gentle touches and stretched his long legs forward.

"Yes, but this way you'll remember everything so much more vividly." Aragorn's hands went from massaging Legolas's neck to sweetly removing his cloak. "Besides, I seem to recall being accused of being a non-romantic."

"I seem to recall you agreeing." Legolas listened as Aragorn tossed his cloak to the side and heard it hit, not in the way a balled up piece of fabric would hit, but with the soft billowing that signified its falling flat, like a blanket. He smiled to himself. 'Have you changed your mind all of a sudden?"

"No," Aragorn's answer was blunt. "But, I also seem to recall you… wanting something?"

_You better run for your life if you can, little girl  
Hide your head in the sand little girl  
Catch you with another man  
That's the end'a little girl_

"Oh, indeed," Legolas purred, settling happily in Aragorn's lap. "And, because I went through your ghastly trials, I hope you'll be giving it to me."

"Well," Aragorn began, his words punctuated with further light kisses to Legolas's neck. "That was the thought…"

"Good," Legolas whispered and then yelped as he was pushed, albeit gently, to the ground. He felt Aragorn straddle his body and begin the task of removing the bulky clothing they wore. "Still," Legolas huffed, feigning offense, "You could be a bit nicer."

"I could," Aragorn conceded as his hands fumbled with the ties on his partner's tunic. "But I really think this is more fun."

"For who?" Legolas asked, his voice brimming with good-natured irritation. "Me or you?"

"Oh…" And suddenly the elf felt hot breath on the exposed skin of his cheeks. "Both of us, I suspect…"

  
_I'd rather see you dead, little girl  
than to be with another man  
You better keep your head, little girl  
or you won't know where I am_

The morning dawned bright and clear; the day looked to be a nice one. But, when the rest of the Fellowship awoke, they found that two from their party were missing. 

"How odd." Frodo Baggins blinked in the early morning light and turned to his friend Samwise. "I wonder where they've gone."

Sam shrugged, "Maybe they stumbled upon some trouble during the night."

"Oh dear," Frodo's eyes lit up with concern. "I do hope that's not the case." He looked down to the ground and toed the earth around his makeshift bed morosely. After a moment's thought he realized there was something odd about the dirt and grass. "Do these look like… footprints to you, Sam?"

"They do," Sam said after a moment's inspection. "Pippen! Merry! Gandalf! Over here!" He called. "Mr. Frodo's found something!" 

The entire group of travelers came to see what the fuss was about. "Just some footprints," Frodo explained sheepishly once everyone had assembled. "But they do look to be about the size of Strider's…"

"And they head into the woods," Gandalf quietly finished the observation.

"We'll find them!" Merry squeaked, grabbing Pippin's hand. "No worries!" He darted into the underbrush, pulling his protesting cousin along with him. 

"Curse those two," Boromir muttered and sighed, making a quick grab for his sword and his shield. "Wait, you fools!" He bellowed and began to follow the sounds of Hobbit laughter. "You don't know what's in that forest!"

"Should we follow them?" Frodo asked timidly after a moment of quiet. "Suppose there is something dangerous in that forest? Suppose something bad has happened to them!"

"Oh…" Gandalf's eyes twinkled just a bit as he winked at Frodo. "I'm it is nothing of that sort. Perhaps… perhaps they lost track of time overnight." With that cryptic comment, he went back to packing up the assemblage of the camp. When Frodo turned to Gimli for clarification, the dwarf just shrugged and muttered a comment about not being able to trust elves, even for something as simple as watch duty.

After several anxious minutes, those who had remained at the campsite heard the rustling of leaves and brush as Merry and Pippin darted triumphantly back into the clearing. "Found them!" They exclaimed, faces flushed with pride. Boromir came next, rolling his eyes and sheathing his sword.

And then, finally, Aragorn and Legolas stumbled into the clearing. They both seemed somewhat rumpled, most likely from sleep in the middle of the wood, Frodo reasoned. But what on Middle-earth were they doing so far out there?

Without comment, the Fellowship saddled their pony, Bill, and began to walk again. Slowly, they all fell into line. Frodo found himself behind Legolas. Gingerly, he tapped the tall elf's elbow to gain his attention. "Legolas?"

Legolas turned to look at Frodo. "Yes?"

"I… I don't mean to bother you, but… well, you seem to have leaves in your hair."

"I do?" Legolas's cheeks flushed momentarily as a muffled snicker (sounding suspiciously like Aragorn) came from behind him. Hurriedly, he brushed his fingers through his long blonde hair, hoping to rid all traces of the forest floor. "Better?"

"Yes, very much so." Frodo nodded and then gasped. "Oh dear! What happened to your ear?"

"My ear?" Now Legolas's hands went to the very point of his ear. They touched on a scab of dried blood. "Oh…"

"What did you do last night?" Frodo asked, his little face contorted with worry. Again, there was another little giggle, and again Legolas's cheeks became tinged with pink. 

"I guess… I guess I just didn't run fast enough."

  
_You better run for your life if you can, little girl  
Hide your head in the sand little girl  
Catch you with another man  
That's the end'a little girl_

  
  



End file.
